Tangerine Trees and Marmalade Skies
by Clink
Summary: Alone in the city, Emily, a cold and distant teenage girl, has no choice but to stay with the Manhattan news boys as she tries to discover how to better herself.
1. Prologue - Somebody calls you, you answe...

Late September, 1899  
  
It was dangerous at night. Emily knew that for a fact, for her father used to tell her that nightly. A little girl like her had no reason to wander around outside when she had a wonderful, loving father. So long ago that was. Now the girl at the mere age of sixteen, found herself alone and walking the streets of New York City at around 9:00 at night. The sun was long gone and the street lights showed her the way through the dirty streets. Although she was dressed poorly, she stubbornly walked on with her chin held high as the rich folk snubbed her.  
  
'I'm not afraid of what other people think of me. I'm not street trash. I'm... I'm me, damnit. ME,' her mind yelled. Stepping her way around puddles, she again came to the realization that she had no money. 'No money equals no food. And no food equals no more me.' She knew she had learned something from her math lessons.  
  
Leaning against an old worn down building, she held tight to her stomach as if it were going to drip through her hands and onto the dirty street. "Geez, would I do anything for a buck," she murmured to herself.  
  
"Anyt'ing?" asked a raspy voice not far away from where Em stood. The girl started at the unwanted remark, and then turned her blazing hazel eyes on the person who had spoken.  
  
"No, ya bum. I was being sarcastic." She said icily, glaring at the man who was standing about 3 yards away from her. He was well dressed with slicked back hair, who wore shiny shoes and a grin on his face. 'A cheesy grin' her pop would have said. It looked like you would have to cut it with a knife just to get through to the other side. The man smirked at her and shambled over to where she stood. Taking every step carefully, he looked her up and down, apparently interested in what he saw. Self consciously, Em pulled her thin over coat around her tighter so he wouldn't be able to see her bare skin.  
  
"I t'ought I hoid ya say ya needed money, me deah. I t'ink I could 'ave a position open for ya." He said, reaching out to brush her check with a clean and manicured finger. Emily stepped away easily and continued to glare at him. Whatever this man wanted, it certainly wasn't a friendly conversation.  
  
"I don't want a job from you. I don't want anything to do with your business." Emily said. 'Don't lose your cool now, Em. Don't do it.' She reminded herself.  
  
"You don' even know what I do. I have many goils who make lotsa money. 'Dey get somet'in, an' I get somet'in." he purred at her, all of the while moving closer.  
  
"Whores, you mean." Emily spat at him, puffing her chest out and standing up straighter to show that she was not afraid. She was terrified, though, and she could feel herself walking backwards into the dark, farther from the world and into hell.  
  
"Whores?" he questioned innocently with a chuckle. "'Dey ain't whores, me deah. 'Dey's a profit. An' you could make a lotta dough... if ya would just... let me size ya up." With that last remark he snatched her arms and pulled her close. She could smell his minty breath, but underneath that sweet scent there was something horrid. A sick smell almost like mildew. Rotting paper... and even rotting flesh.  
  
"Get your dirty hands off of me!" she growled, shoving him as hard as her strength would allow. He stumbled, but wouldn't release her. Instead, he held fast to her with one hand around her waist. His other hand traveled down her back, making her skin crawl and her head swim.  
  
"Shush, me deah," he breathed into her ear. Em recoiled from the devilish man who seemed to want more than an employee at that moment. 'No way, no way siree.' her mind whispered furiously as her eyes darted around for someone to scream and run to. Seeing no one around her, her panic rose. She began to thrust her fists onto the man's chest, shrieking harsh words that she had never even heard before. They sounded like they fit the moment. Blood appeared on the man's face where her hands tore at his skin, making him look even more like a devil. He grinned down at her and pushed her hard against the wall, knocking the air out of her lungs.  
  
He let her go as she slumped against the cold brick in a daze. "What are you doing now, eh, scum? You want to run now?" she muttered, focusing all her attention on not shaking with fear. Her teeth chattered with the effort and her heart pounded furiously in her ears. Blue dots swam in front of her eyes and she blinked furiously to make them go away. She was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. If tomorrow was to be, that is.  
  
"My deah, I'se gunna give ya da ride of a lifetime." He said triumphantly, grinning like an idiot. Her vision finally cleared, and it was replaced by a sudden headache and the return of her stomach pains. Looking up at him, she saw that he was horrendously ugly. His eyes were small and beady and his nose was crooked and too long for his face. He had released her to, without a doubt, undo his pants. 'Well, too bad for him,' Emily thought with a slight smile as she continued to act as if she was too dizzy to pay attention to the man.  
  
With the quickness of someone who had time for practice, she braced herself against the wall and lifted her legs up in the air with the grace of a cat. Striking the man square in the chest, he gave an "OOF!" of surprise as he fell backwards, hitting his ugly head on the road.  
  
Emily gave a sigh of relief and carefully stood up. Instinctively crouching down on the ground, she moved slowly over to the man like a lioness on the hunt. Her hazel eyes caught the light from a street lamp, and amplified their beauty. She made her way over to the man and kicked him in the ribs hard enough to hear ribs crack inside his ugly and distorted body. "That will teach you to call me "My Deah", you bum." She muttered, reaching into his pockets in the search for something more useful then revenge. Finding what she wanted, she stuffed a few bills and coins into her coat pocket and smiled grimly at the man.  
  
"Today just wasn't your day. Now was it, my dear?" She asked the still body. Then she turned and walked quickly out of the alley, making her way back into the dark streets of New York City.  
  
  
  
fin 


	2. One - You answer quite slowly,

'So. This is what it's like. Having no one watching and waiting for you to make a mistake.' Emily thought aimlessly to herself. She walked cautiously further down into the damp alley, not knowing where she was going. She didn't even really care all that much. The smell of mildew clouded around her, invading her nose. Old newspapers and filth covered the dirt path that she walked down. A scattering noise came from her left and she immediately associated it with the sound of rats. It was times like this when she thought of how good it was that she was used to the rats from the orphanage. Ah, yes. That wondrous place that was her home for two long and wonderful years.  
  
She snorted softly at her sarcastic thought and shook her head. 'Wonderful years, that's a laugh.' She pulled out the twine that was holding her long, dark hair in place. As it swept onto her shoulders, she could practically hear Sister Gretchen's response to the situation:  
  
"Emily, my pet, you know that a lady keeps her hair in place rather then letting it wonder around all the time! A lady's hair is not a lost mongrel." The stern voice, no matter how accustomed she had come to be, made Em cringe. The hag of a woman who had abused the vulnerable child that Emily had once been had become the voice of supposed reason. Although she had escaped St. David's orphanage two months ago, Em continued to have nightmares about the place that had kept her captive. Nightmares of hearing the old woman's cane pounding on the stairs toward the bunk room where the girls were kept, continued to keep her awake at night. The awful moments when the same cane would pound into her body and knock the air out of her lungs made sweat break upon her skin. The humiliation of being looked down upon, rather than being loved remained fresh on her mind. That's all she ever wanted. Was it so much to ask for?  
  
'But a course, you nit. A course it's too much to ask for!' her mind replied, switching to her newly adapted New York accent. Living on the streets with a proper accent surely wouldn't save her from the goons that roamed alleys late at night. A week after being on her own she had realized that fact right after she was jumped by thugs who wanted the little money she had. She had also learned quickly how to fight back. And now she was a street rat, street trash with no home, no family, and no money. She was scum. However, Em knew herself better.  
  
The blinding pain in her stomach, which had been replaced by numbness as a result of not eating more than a lone pear in over two days, returned with a vengeance. She groaned and stopped in her tracks, leaning against the old abandoned building which served as the side of the alley. The pain increased, and she faintly felt herself fall onto her stomach and curl into a ball. 'Not good... not good...' her mind chanted, trying feebly at the same time to take her mind off of horrendous pain.  
  
She tried her best to think of something else. Her dad. He was picking her up and twirling her around above his head. She raised her hands above her head and wiggled her fingers as the air whipped against them. She could hear his deep, bellowing laughter intertwine with her childish giggles. Looking down at her loving, smiling father's face, Emily felt happy...  
  
The gnawing in her stomach ceased, giving a few more clenches and then residing yet again into the numb feeling. Em straightened up out of her fetal position and rested her hands on her knees. After taking a few deep breaths of air, she stood up straight and re-adjusted her wardrobe that had been mustered in her agony. The thin, plain cotton skirt she was wearing now had even more dirt caked onto it. She brushed what dust she could off of it. Then she re-buttoned her boys shirt, which was incredibly large on her, and removed the clumps of dirt from her hair. She straightened the faded gray bandanna around her slender neck, pulling it to the right and retying it.  
  
She sighed inwardly, and began to walk again on uneasy legs toward no where in particular. At the end of the alley, Em decided to turn left. As she stepped into the light of a single street lamp, Emily spotted a street vender who was packing up for the night, and singing to himself in the process.  
  
"What 'ave we got heah?" she asked herself with a faint smirk. She shook her head to move her long bangs out of her eyes so she could see better. Em eyed the bread and pastries that the man was loading into boxes and satchels and then placing them into a carriage that was nearby. The man was about forty years old, or so she thought, and from his accent that she could hear while he muttered to himself, he was Italian. Emily licked her lips hungrily, knowing that she could easily score a meal from the overweight vender. Her eyes searched frantically over the street; there was no police in sight.  
  
With this thought, she waited until the man had turned to his carriage in order to put a few boxes into the back. She then hurried over to the makeshift counter where most of the bread still remained. Flattening herself against the rough wood, she quieted her rushed breathing so that the man wouldn't sense her presence. He turned back to the counter and she heard him stuff a few more loaves of bread into boxes. The song he was singing sounded sweet and foreign to her ears and the unknown words echoed in the silent, yet alive, city of Manhattan. His voice suddenly changed pitch, and Em realized that he had his back to her.  
  
With a quickness from much learned practice and grace, Em suddenly leaped from her crouched position and onto her feet. She reached forward with both of her hands at once a large loaf of French bread and a satchel filled with God knows what. She took off like a shot, running in the opposite direction away from the startled vender, from who she had caught a confused jumble of stutters as he tried to prevent her robbery.  
  
'That was easy enough!' Em thought to herself as she darted into yet another alley. She was becoming more and more used to appearing and reappearing on the streets. This alley was between two factories, narrow in size and filled with rain soaked boxes and old newspapers. Much to the young girl's dismay, pounding feet and whistles came to her ears as she dodged quickly around an old man who was huddled in the middle of her path.  
  
"YOU! Girl, you stop right there! Thief!" hollered a thunderous voice, seemingly too close for comfort. Emily cursed under her breath as the satchel she was carrying caught on a plank of wood to her side and was torn out of her grasp. Having no other choice but to leave it, she kept sprinting into the night. She tightened her grip on the lone loaf of bread she still had in her possession and pumped her legs, willing herself to go faster. A fork in the alley forced her to take a right. The voices of angry men on the chase still seemed directly behind her. Not daring to take her attention off of where she was leading them, she didn't look to see how far the distance was. The aching emptiness in her torso reappeared, as did a sudden stitch in her side. She then felt herself trip on another piece of wood, and she unceremoniously dropped what she had gone through all the trouble for.  
  
Taking a few seconds to regain her balance, Em gasped for air that would be needed to continue her race. "Damn it, you clutz!" she cursed herself, as she rubbed her ankle, which she had managed to twist in the escapade. She looked glumly at the loaf of bread that had fallen into a mud puddle. "There goes your food, you gimp," she scolded herself. Whistles sounded, fretfully close, dragging her out of her self pity. Em groaned and abruptly set off into a quick sprint in the opposite direction. Twisting and turning down alleyways, jumping over sleeping bodies, and pushing through crowded streets. It seemed that she had been running forever, when in reality the time was only a mere ten minutes. The men seemed to split up and follow her every move from each direction.  
  
As Em darted in and out of the passage ways, she looked into the smoggy night sky and asked a single word: WHY!? Why was this happening to her? She was just a girl who was hungry, hadn't they ever heard of charity before? And more importantly... how was she going to get out of this mess?  
  
"Simple." replied the eerily calm voice of Sister Gretchen. "You are a rotten girl and you deserve all that you receive, with more on the way!" Cackled the elderly voice.  
  
"Shut your mouth you wench." Emily retorted bitterly, concentrating on not collapsing into a sobbing heap of flesh. She ran into a busy street, and wove her way in and out of the people, trying to lose whoever continued to follow her.  
  
Women held onto their suitors arms, and gave snooty "Humphs!" as the dirty and gasping girl knocked into them. How dare she? 'She should know better than to be so rude,' they thought as they watched the girl hurry off. Close on her heels were several policemen, whistles and yells piercing the night as they ran after the girl.  
  
*****  
  
Jake was having trouble selling his last few papes, even with the incredibly improved headline he was shouting. It seemed that people had just gone and forgotten him and bought their papers elsewhere. He stopped yelling his garbled speech and gathered his papers under his arm. Taking off his bowler hat, he shook his head to remove his sweaty brown hair from his line of vision. The cool October breeze whipped around him and fluttered trash around his feet. It was a nice night to take a stroll.  
  
His eyes searched the street, trying to remember the expressions of the people all around him. He watched the strolling couples, so happy and young, walking arm in arm. Looking up into the dark, smoggy night he thought carelessly to himself as the busy streets bustled around him. Snapping back to the matter at hand, he gave a tired sigh and continued to work.  
  
"Murdah in Governa's own home!! Huge Scandal! Extry, extry!" He shouted. A man walking past him stopped and hurriedly bought a paper, handing Jake the penny and walking quickly away. Jake smiled as he stuffed the penny in his pocket. Little did that man know that the victim was the governor's house cat, who had actually eaten a mouse that had just consumed rat poison. Jake didn't care if it was a huge stretch of the headline, it sold papers, didn't it? That's what counted.  
  
As Jake walked down the street he was on, he noticed his shoelaces were untied. Placing his papes on his knee, he leaned down on the other as he began to retie his laces. He was busily looping one lace around the other when he heard light, running footsteps coming straight toward him.  
  
'What da...' he thought as he looked up and saw a vision of black, wavy hair, and big green eyes... coming straight for him.  
  
*****  
  
Emily ran and ran and ran... and... ran some more. She was quickly becoming tired of running from these men. Every alley she ran onto, they were right behind her. She was heading towards what she remembered was Central Park. Maybe it was in the trees or near one of the lakes that she could lose the bulls (who seemed more like hounds at the moment).  
  
For the first time since she had begun the chase, Emily turned to survey the distance between her and the men. They were not that far from her, just close enough to make out their gleaming whistles. There was just enough space for her to make a break for it, if she sprinted the rest of the way.  
  
As she turned back to her running, she willed her legs to pump faster. In her bouncing scope of the stretch of sidewalk in front of her, she saw a shape in her path. There was no time for her to swerve out of the way. Neither yielded, and Emily felt herself crash painfully into the frame.  
  
*****  
  
Jake's mouth fell open in surprise as the sprinting shape reached him. 'Oh hell,' his mind whispered numbly as the figure collided into him. Hard. He fell sprawled out on his back, his last papers of that day flying onto the sidewalk along with his bowler. The person fell likewise on top of him, with their face burrowed into his chest.  
  
A few seconds went by as Jake's mind tried to process what had just happened. His back was throbbing, as was the back of his head. One of his hands lifted feebly to his head in pain, and the other reached out to grab his bowler that had fallen off in his fall. He then realized that the figure who had run full force into him, was shaking on top of him and trying to scramble to their feet at the same time. In sudden alarm, Jake lifted his head to look into the eyes of the frightened... girl?!  
  
"What da..." he mumbled for the second time that night. The girl was absolutely beautiful besides the fact that she was covered in dirt and sweat from her run. Her huge green eyes shone from under her black waves of hair, and she was dressed in a tattered boys shirt and a dreadfully thin skirt.  
  
"Get offa me, NOW!" The girl half screeched, half shouted. She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to hoist herself onto her feet. Instead of allowing her to run away, he placed an arm around her waist and continued to stare into her eyes.  
  
"What's goin' on?" he demanded, seeing her eyes widen even more, if that was possible. He received his answer as a pair of shrill whistles sounded from close by. Jake and Emily were up in less than a second, looking hurriedly around them for somewhere to hide. Jake's eyes swept over the crowd who were wearily staring at them, mumbling to each other. On a split second decision, he bent down to retrieve his bowler, stuffing it on his head before turning to meet the girl's frantic eyes. "Dis way!" he said, pulling the girl by the arm into a nearby alley.  
  
Emily's legs felt like rubber, but she managed to keep up with the boy who was still clinging to her protectively. He was maybe an inch taller than her and very built. Not like she would notice that about him or anybody else, but it was hard NOT to when you are lying on top of a boy your own age. Who happened to be very attractive...  
  
She mentally slapped herself and picked up her pace in order to match his own. They reached the end of the alley and Jake released the girl's arm who he had still had in his tight grasp.  
  
"Come on, up heah! JUMP!" Jake called hurriedly as the two of them leaped onto a fire escape of a building. They climbed it up until they reached another on a different building, jumping with grace onto the creaking metal. They scrambled down those stairs into a back alley where they ran on. "Come on, get da lead outta you... NOW, go!" He said in a hoarse whisper as the two ducked into a dark doorway. Em felt like throttling the boy. Who did he think he was? Come on, come on, move, move! If she heard it one more time, he was going to regret it.  
  
Jake pulled the girl further into the doorway so that she was up against him in the small space. They were covered in the shadows and pressed against the wall so that no one in the alley could spot them. He knew that they had probably lost the cops a long way back, but just in case they reared their ugly heads, they were protected by the darkness. He pulled the bowler off of his head and swiped his arm over his sweaty brow. He then began to fidget with the brim of his hat, switching his weight from leg to leg.  
  
Emily could hear the boy's calm breathing in comparison to her own ragged and gasping breaths. She pulled defiantly out of his grasp and moved to the other side of the doorway. From her spot she glared at him, narrowing her eyes and lifting her head. If he got her caught by the cops, she would rip his throat out. One layer of skin at a time.  
  
She began to open her mouth in order to say something nasty and smart to show him she was not a regular prissy girl, when they heard pounding footfalls coming towards their hiding place. The boy practically leaped over to her and thrust a strong hand over her mouth. "Shhhh!" he breathed into her ear.  
  
"Dan, do you see dem?" A rough, deep voice called not far away from where the two stood anxiously waiting.  
  
"Nah. Dey got away. I hate dese street rats, dey knows every alley way in dis damn city." The other man grumbled. The two men sauntered away, heading out of the alley and onto another busy street.  
  
Jake didn't release the girl until he was certain no one else was coming. Then he let her go quickly, stepping away from her and her gleaming eyes, counting the seconds until her inevitable combustion. 'One... two.... three... four...'  
  
"What's your problem, eh?! What makes you think I'se unable to take care a meself? I ain't a damsel in distress who's bein' eaten by a damned dragon! Who do you think you are?!" She sputtered, every now and then slamming her fist into his chest or shoulder for emphasis. Jake glowered at the upset girl, unable to keep himself from shouting back at her.  
  
"I ain't got any problem, goily! I was tryin' ta help you, unless you ain't noticed. YOU'RE da one dat crashed into ME, r'memba? Bein' da nice guy dat I am..."  
  
"NICE!? You coulda got us both caught, you stupid excuse for a..."  
  
"Stupid, eh? Well, what did you do ta get into dis mess, huh? Steal? Murdah someone?! Knowing you for da five minutes I have, it wouldn' surprise me!"  
  
"I was starvin', you got it? I stole a damned loaf a bread, and didn' even get ta eat it. Besides, we'se not talkin' bout' dat!"  
  
"Den what are we talkin' bout, goily?" Jake asked, dropping his yell to a menacing growl.  
  
"We'se... I...." Emily started, running her hands over her hair in thought. Her eyes darted all around her, anywhere but Jake. She finally gave a sigh and let her shoulders slump in exhaustion. "Thank you." She said softly, looking up into the dark brown eyes of the boy who had helped her.  
  
"You're welcome." Jake replied, placing his hands in the pockets of his red vest. He allowed his lips to quirk up in what he hoped was a plausible smile.  
  
"And, it ain't 'goily'. " she said, "It's Emily." She again narrowed her eyes at him, but allowed the corner of her mouth to twist up into an amused smirk.  
  
"Jake." He grumbled, turning his back to her and trudging away from the doorway. He didn't want anything more to do with this ungrateful excuse for a lady. She had a mouth on her and although she was very pretty, she was... well, a sight to be seen. Jake sighed in exasperation and covered his face with his hands. 'Geez, don't even know a goil for five minutes and you'se already smitten... wait. Who said anyt'ing bout bein' sweet on her?' He thought to himself. He groaned. This was bad news.  
  
Emily watched as Jake sighed to himself and stopped in his tracks to kick the nearby building. She wondered why he had bothered to help her in the first place if he seemed to be so troubled by his act. It wasn't as if she had asked. She just fell on him, it being a clear accident, and right then and there he decided to help her escape from cops that had the ability to stick him behind lock and key.  
  
"Ummn, wait!" She called out, jogging on still wobbly legs over to where Jake was standing. He looked up expectantly as she approached him. She never took her eyes off of his, and as she reached him he took the time to remove his eyes from hers and concentrate on putting his bowler, which he had been holding the entire time, back on his head.  
  
"What do you wait, goi... er, Emily?" he asked looking back at her. Her eyes shone out at him in the dim light coming from a nearby street lamp. They were cautious eyes that were very aware of the world around them. He was beginning to think of her eyes as gateways to some other world. Like a book he had read not so long ago, The Time Machine. It was as if her eyes could take him to another place, far away from New York City, in search of a new dimension with new people to get to know and new things to explore. Far from having to sell papes and his memories of his life before he had joined up with the working boys of New York.  
  
"I wanted to ask you if you knew somewheahs I could stay da night." She said, her head slightly tilted quizzically, but her lips pursed tightly. She hadn't planned on staying anywhere, but she needed somewhere safe to hide out for the night. She wasn't going to spend her night on a park bench or in another alley like the many nights before. Not with the police on the lookout.  
  
"I dunno." Jake replied. He searched his photographic memory of the city. The only place he could think of was a park bench in Central Park. He knew, however, that the police would be searching for her tonight and a park bench was no place to be in that condition. "Well, dere's always da Lodgin' House. Da boys won' mind. I think." He said more to himself than to Em.  
  
"Lodgin' house?" Em asked cautiously, rising an eyebrow. Knowing other guys that she had encountered on the street, she knew all too well what they thought of her. So this Jake boy thought that she was an disposible piece of meat in a skirt. 'Figures...' she thought, looking at Jake with a disgusted and murderous scowl.  
  
Jake looked at the girl in alarm, realizing what he just said must have sounded like. "Oh, whoa, no! Da Lodgin' House is for newsies. We ain't dat kinda group... trust me." He assured, smiling uneasily at her. Em nodded her head slightly, all the while continuing to stare him down. "Well... it'll be free tonight, since you'se only stayin' one night." He continued, looking uneasily from her eyes to his shoes, to the building, back to her captivating eyes. "And, er, Kloppman is real nice. He won't care if you'se a goil," he said quickly, removing his bowler to run a slightly shaky hand through his tasseled, brown hair. "Hmmn, and... um, dere's probably a free bunk. Dere always is. So..." he continued, now studying his vest, tugging at a loose seam while not wanting to look back at the girl with the burning eyes. "And..." he began, but instead snapped his head up to meet her glare. "What!?" he roared at her, annoyed that she was silently burning a hole through his head.  
  
"I'se listenin' to you. Would you rather I talk at the same time?" She dead panned. He just stared at her, his mouth slightly open, his face shocked. "Anyt'ing else?" Emily asked calmly, continuing to glare into Jake's searching and wild eyes.  
  
"No. Dat's all. Lets go," Jake said, turning on his heel and walking swiftly out of the alley. He didn't care if she was following him, he didn't care if she left before he woke up in the next morning, and he didn't care about her in the slightest. Period.  
  
Emily scowled at Jake's back, allowing him to put a few feet of space between them before trailing behind him. He would have to learn that she wasn't a defenseless little girl who didn't need taking care of. She just needed some help, which didn't mean that she was asking him to be her father for the day. She wasn't the type to wear a dress and prance around, parasol in hand, holding onto the arm of her knight... a MAN. No way. It wasn't about to happen in the near future. The sooner he learned it, the sooner they would get along. If that happened at all.  
  
*****  
  
They walked to the lodging house in silence. Emily, who continued to drag her feet behind Jake, pretended that her gaze actually WAS capable of drilling holes through his precious bowler that he absentmindedly brought his hand up to and tugged at every now and then. Why he kept taking it off and placing it back on his head, in exactly the same manner that it was before, was beyond her. As if he had heard her, Jake removed the dark brown hat and twirled it around in his hands. He hummed softly to himself and smoothed his hair back before placing the worn hat on his head... again. It was driving her up the wall.  
  
Jake could tell that Emily was still following him by the various exasperated sighs that she let off every five minutes or so. He would have thought that she'd given up a while ago. He saw they had reached Tibby's, the restaurant where most newsies were known to get their meals at reasonable prices. He glanced through the dirty windows and saw some of his friends having a good time, laughing and running around from table to table. Jake shook his head and continued to walk on. The lodging house loomed before them and Jake stopped, starring up with a bemused grin at the run down building.  
  
'Home sweet home!' he thought, placing his hands in his pockets, searching for a few of his pennies he had received from his day of work. "Dis is it." He said gruffly over his shoulder to the girl who had stopped behind him.  
  
"No kiddin'." Emily retorted, her words oozing with sarcasm. She looked up at the huge sign that was hung over the door of the building. "BOYS LODGING HOUSE." it proclaimed, period and all. Em smirked at Jake, who was apparently waiting for her next move, and walked ahead of him, climbing the stairs and opening the door with a quick flick of her wrist. Looking back at Jake with her green and gleaming eyes, Emily stepped through the doorway.  
  
******  
  
Kloppman stood behind his desk, watching the boys who were lounging around with an amused smile on his face. They did this practically every night, and yet it always seemed to send the old man's spirits higher. The boys kept him young. He chuckled slightly to himself and reached up with one of his liver spotted hands to brush at his bowler that sat crookedly on his head. The night was getting darker but the boys around him only seemed to gain more energy.  
  
"Hey, Mush! Race! Look at dis!" Whispered a blond who had an eye patch over his right eye. He was perched on top of the tattered couch, pointing down at a smaller boy who was sleeping below him. The older boy had a handful of shaving cream in one of his large palms, which he carefully placed into the hand of the younger, sleeping newsie. Those who were near to the scheming one-eyed boy, tried their best to muffle their laughter as they watched him use a small pigeon feather to tickle the sleeping one's nose. The unsuspecting sleeper twitched his nose, and reached out his hand, which was dripping with the white mess, up to his face. As soon as he slapped the cream over the center of his face, the room erupted into laughter.  
  
"HEY!" The young boy cried, jumping up from his position. His cap flew off of his head and a jumble of brown curls bounced around his sticky white face. Seeing the shaving cream on his hand as well as on the hand of the eye-patched boy who was sitting above him, he took off running after the culprit.  
  
"BLINK, you good for nothin' scabbah! I'se gunna..." Snipeshooter yelled, chasing Kid Blink around Kloppman's desk as if he were a hound running down a fox. The old man chuckled with his sand paper voice and rubbed his tired eyes. No matter how many years he had been housing news boys, he always got a kick out of them. 'When are dese boys gunna grow up?' he thought to himself, shaking his head.  
  
After some of the noise had tampered off and Racetrack had led some of the willing boys upstairs for a rousing game of poker, the lodging house became much more quiet. Almost like the daytime when all of the boys were on the streets selling their papes. Snipeshooter, Boots and Tumbler along with some of the other younger residents sat on the floor, not too far away from Kloppman, playing marbles. Again with a bemused disposition, Kloppman watched the boys placing bets on their shiny marbles before shooting them across the worn floor to meet another jewel. He listened to the faint Clink, Clink, Clink that the marbles made as they hit each other. Nostalgic memories flooded back as he remembered the good old days of being a kid.  
  
Just as Kloppman was about to retire to his small room in order to fix himself dinner, the door opened and a young woman entered. She was a vision of beauty with a hard, ragged edge. A brilliant glow shone from her green eyes and her lips and cheeks were both a flushed pink. Her pale and stone-like face was covered by thick, black tresses that flowed from her scalp. She looked around the room before spotting Kloppman standing across from her behind his desk. Her hair bounced on her shoulders as she walked across the room to where he stood. It was breathtaking how she walked and even the younger kids playing marbles stopped their activity to stare in wonder at the girl.  
  
"I was told dat I could stay heah for da night." She stated, locking her eyes on his. Kloppman's warm grin spread across his face as he saw an unusually glum Jake enter the door, soon after the young girl had spoken. Jake stared at the girl's back and then nodded curtly to Kloppman before pounding his way up the stairs. 'Nope. No doubt 'bout it...' Kloppman thought to himself, imagining a scenario close to what had actually happened between the two youngsters. 'Looks like dey got off on a wrong foot. Or two.'  
  
"Yah, dat's true, deary. We might 'ave da small problem of bunk space. But I'se certain dat da boys will compromise." Kloppman said, pushing a heavy book across the desk to the young woman.  
  
Emily looked down to read the book's cover. "LEDGER." it stated in bold print, again with the period. She looked back at the man who continued to smile at her. "I'se only stayin' a night. I don't need ta sign in." She stated pushing the book back across the desk.  
  
Kloppman's smile faltered and his shook his head, chuckling softly as he pushed the book back to her. "You're mistaken, young one. No one stays heah unless dey sign dis. Period." He said, staring her down with his ancient eyes.  
  
Emily rolled her own eyes and picked up an incredibly small pencil that was hiding in the old book's binding, opening the book at the same time to where the last signature had been penned. Reading to herself, she spotted the names of the newsies who lived here and the sound of most of them seemed very odd. Boots? Skittery? Shaker? 'The ones who had come up with these names must have been drinking as much as Sister Gretchen did at times.' She thought. She scrawled her first name quickly on a vacant space and closed the book shut.  
  
"Heah, old man, heahs me name." Emily stated coldly, pushing the book back to him. She pursed her lips into their thin grimace.  
  
"You call me Kloppman... Emily." He replied warmly as he opened the book to where she had written her name. Em was shocked. She had almost dared a hot response from this man, perhaps even hoping that it would be more than Jake had thrown back at her. Kloppman smiled again at her as she raised an eyebrow in his direction. "I 'ave delt wit' many boys like you. Dose dat think dey are above me just 'cause dey are youngah an' dey sell deir papes." At that statement, Emily opened up her mouth to interrupt but was silenced by Kloppman's risen hand. "Now, I'se quite aware dat you ain't a newsie. But you'se cocky, just da same."  
  
He grinned at her and stepped from behind the desk. He glanced down at the former marble players, who had abandoned their game to stare wide eyed at the action which was unfolding in front of him seconds before. "You busy?" He asked them with a gruff voice. They meekly shook their heads, grins spreading across their small faces. Kloppman nodded solemnly to the young boys and shooed them upstairs. "Get outta heah! GO! You gotta get some sleep ta carry da bannah!" He roared, motioning them to take flight up the stairs.  
  
They hurriedly gathered up their marbles, sticks, and other possessions, scampering up the stairs in less than twelve seconds flat. They went willingly with out a doubt, so they could tell the older boys all about the new girl. The pretty raven haired girl with the emerald green eyes who was staying the night. Although they believed that girls withheld some sort of exotic disease they were used to reading about in the papers, they knew that they would be rewarded for their "spying" from the older boys.  
  
Kloppman watched them leave with an adoring look of approval. He rubbed his hands together and turned back to Emily who was searching the lobby with wide, curious eyes.  
  
"Now, Emily, if you'se excuse me... I'll be dinin' in me room." He said with a goofy grin. She couldn't help but allow her lips to tilt up into a smile, but she quickly ducked her head in order to hide it. He tipped his worn bowler to her and marched off towards his secluded room. Emily watched him go, her stomach beginning to clench with the mentioning of food. She willed it not to, but just as stomachs are bound to do, it erupt with a hungry churning noise. Unable to not hear the thunderous noise, Kloppman chuckled and turned back to his new resident.  
  
He studied her slim figure, the too thin cheekbones, the pale pallor of her skin, the bright but hungry eyes, the way her thin skirt was beginning to slide off of her waist. There was no doubt that the poor child was unbearably hungry, looking as if she hadn't eaten a proper meal in days. He was a very giving soul, and so with a curt nod of his head, he decided to offer what he had to the girl. "Wouldja care ta join me?" He asked with a overly exaggerated bow. For the first time that night, Emily smiled openly at the old man. Not a quick upturn of one side of her lips, not a puckered mouth, but a true smile. She nodded her head graciously to him, for he had moments before won her heart by beating her at her own game. He nodded in return, turning and heading into the room. Emily moved to follow him, but sat back down when he motioned for her to take a seat on the tattered couch.  
  
She watched from outside the room as Kloppman went to a small stove near the back where he stirred and then poured something into two wooden bowls. She saw that he was filling them with a stew and her mouth watered, her stomach ached even more than it was doing before. He turned back to her and smiled, handing one of the bowls to her with a spoon. "Eat up!" He demanded in the same gruff voice that he had used when he ordered the young boys upstairs. Emily could smell the chicken stew from where she clutched it in her lap, and although it was no cuisine, it smelled wonderful. She forced a few bites, stopping after the feeling of nausea flooded her senses as the food hit her empty stomach. After her stomach accepted the food, she began to shovel it into her mouth hungrily. She was soon done with the first bowl, and not wanting to be rude, she thanked Kloppman with an uneasy smile. Her stomach continued to grumble, however, so Kloppman offered her more. After pondering whether or not she wanted to intrude on his own supper, she decided that she wasn't about to give up a chance for free food. She accepted and finished bowl after bowl of the stew. Kloppman was very glad that he had made an excess of dinner that night.  
  
Over their meal, Emily learned about the old man who she now was not afraid to become friendly with. He confided in her that he had been married long ago to a beautiful young woman who was fond of orphans and homeless boys and girls. They both committed numerous acts of kindness for the needy around Manhattan before her untimely death. She had been 35, and they had been married for only ten years when her life was taken away by cancer. In the years to come, he realized that he could keep his wife alive in memory, and so he opened up the Newsboy's Lodging House.  
  
Emily spoke very little of herself and mainly listened as Kloppman reminisced about his many years of running the lodging house, asking questions only when she felt he had run out of something to say. She was happy for him, for his wonderful memories, and even happier for the young men who found a friend in the wonderful and kind old man. She hoped that the boys upstairs realized how much they were blessed by his grace. They would be living their lives on the streets without shelter and warmth, if it wasn't for him. She was all of a sudden glad that she had come here, Jake for the moment forgotten, and she hoped that she somehow could show her gratitude towards Kloppman. It was indeed a wonderful meal for both of them.  
  
*****  
  
Jake stomped up the stairs, muttering obscene words to himself, all of the while hoping that if words could kill... his mutterings would reach Emily's ears. In his bitter state, he flung the door of the bunk room open, startling even the enthralled poker players who were situated around the room. Dutchy, who was leaning back in a chair near the door, let out a shocked cry as he tumbled to the floor.  
  
"Oh. Looks like someone's tryin' to steal Skittery's job of bein' da upset one of da group!" Race exclaimed, chewing on his cigar as was his usual habit. The room tittered with chuckles as Skittery removed his hat to slapped Race over the head with it.  
  
"Shuddup, Race. Sorry, Dutchy." Jake mumbled, walking over to his bunk as he took off his red vest on the way. He sighed irritably to himself as green eyes flashing in the back of his mind, only causing him to become more upset. He kept his eyes downcast on the worn wooden floor.  
  
"Hey, it's no problem, Jake. It was only me head." Dutchy said with a lopsided grin as he rearranged his glasses on his face, running his fingers through his astoundingly blond hair.  
  
"Yeah, no damage dere, right Dutch?" Joked Mush, a forever smiling and cheerful young boy. Laughter once again filled the room, causing Jake to groan inwards. 'Great, everyone's in a great mood tonight. Just me luck. The one night when I feel awful, da guys is feelin' like dey won a hundred bucks.' he thought to himself. He climbed the short amount of steps to his top bunk and hung his vest and bowler on the post before flinging himself face first onto the bed.  
  
"So, Jake, how was da headlines treatin' you today?" Bumlets called from the top bunk across the room from Jake. His long and silky black hair swept onto his dark complexioned forehead as he looked up from his sketch pad, smiling at this friend.  
  
"Coulda been woise, Bummah." Jake grumbled as he kicked his shoes off, letting them fall to the floor with audible smacks. He thought glumly of his lost papes, the ones that had been thrown all over the sidewalk when the bat out of hell ran into him. Bumlets shrugged and turned back to his drawing. He could take a hint and he certainly was not going to get his head bitten off by a simple conversation.  
  
"What's eatin' you, Jake? A goil?" Came a soft taunting voice from underneath him. Jake rolled his eyes and moved on his stomach to the edge of the bed, hanging his head over the side to look into the bottom bunk. Just as he expected, his best friend Shaker lay in his pants and undershirt, looking up at the top bunk with a dreamy expression on his face. A small smile played on his lips and his dark colored fingers were laced under his head.  
  
"And why would it mattah ta you'se?" Jake asked in resignation. Seeing his overly calm and day dreaming friend, somehow made him lose his hot head. They had been friends since the first day Shaker had come to the lodging house a year ago. Having so much in common, it was a wonder that they were also nothing alike. Jake liked conversation while Shakes (the shortened version of his newsie name that mainly Jake took to calling him) enjoyed silence so he could live in his thoughts. Shakes was also the dreamer of the group of boys. He wrote down his thoughts in a journal that he kept underneath his mattress, and from what Jake had read, Shakes was a wonderful writer. A regular Byron. It was sort of sickening.  
  
Shaker laughed softly to himself and looked up into his friends eyes. His dark complexion seemed even darker enclosed in the shadows of Jake's bed. "I'se just askin' you, Jake. But I'll take your woid for it." He replied, moving his eyes back to stare into nothingness. Jake grinned crookedly at his friend and then brought himself back onto his own bed, sighing tiredly as he closed his eyes. The serenity, however, didn't last as long as he had hoped.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The crowd of young boys stamped their way into the bunk room, led by the older and "wiser" of them: Boots. All of their adolescent eyes gleamed with excitement as they crossed the room to where the poker game was taking place.  
  
"Race, wheah's Cowboy? He heah?" Boots asked breathlessly. It was evident he had some large and important piece of information to tell "da leadah a Manhattan."  
  
"Nah, he's ovah at Davey's. Why?" Race asked, not taking his attention off of the game. Snipes stepped up from behind Boots, a bit of whip cream still staining the front of his shirt. His face beamed as he placed his elbow on Race's shoulder, leaning forward. He reached out to grab Race's treasured cigar which was clamped between over protective teeth, but the movement was far too slow. Race's left hand struck the young boy on the side of the face, pushing him lightly yet firmly away from him and his cigar. Snipes pouted for a moment before remembering the reason why he had approached the older newsie in the first place.  
  
"Well, we'se just got some news... about a goil. Dat's all." Snipes said with a shrug as he turned back to his friends who were watching the scene with proud smiles on their faces. He winked at them. They took the hint, turning and walking away until most of the older boys' heads snapped up at that one four letter word.  
  
"Wait right dere. What goil?" Kid Blink asked, blocking Snipes' path with a bemused grin plastered on his face. Snipes shook his head, thinking to himself that when he got older he was NEVER going to go crazy over girls like these fellows were. Yuck. 'Look at dese guys... dey haven't even seen da goil, and already dey's wantin' her!' Snipes thought to himself with a smirk.  
  
"Oh, only da goil dat's stayin' heah tonight. Dat's all." Trickster said for his friend in the bold and fearless voice that he talked in when he wished to impress the older boys. He smiled smugly up at Blink, letting his light blond hair fall over his childishly open gray eyes. He might have been only one year older than Snipeshooter and taller then the rest of the younger newsies, but he was more of a follower. He was also one of the best liars and practical jokers that the lodging house had ever seen. And with all of the gullible boys there that night, it is no surprise as to what happened next.  
  
The entire room broke into an uproar. Even those trying to fall asleep despite the poker game awoke, rushing to where the younger boys stood. Questions flew from left and right as they tried to drain the younger boys of every little detail of what they knew. The only one that didn't move from his bunk was Jake. He stayed where he was lying on his stomach, his chin propped up on his folded hands, as he watched the action below him. Mush was hooting and hollering with excitement, Specs was cleaning his glasses on his shirt with a huge grin spread across his face like a slab of butter on toast, Itey and Snitch, the brothers in the lodging house, were busy slapping each other's cheeks as they discussed how they were going to advance on the girl, and Bumlets and Dutchy were each drilling a boy for information. What did she look like? Was she pretty. And even Shaker looked happy! He was laughing with Boots and most likely talking about the mysterious girl. Jake watched with dismay as Boots pointed up to Jake and gestured wildly with his hands to Shakes. The older boy smiled and patted Boots on the head, turning and sauntering over to where Jake remained on his bunk.  
  
"So. Nothin', eh?" Shakes asked, his face spreading into a grin as he watched Jake flush. He placed his hands in the loops of his pants, looking up at his friend.  
  
"Eh, blow it out your..." Jake began, but didn't get a chance to finish. At that moment, Jack Kelly entered the bunk room from the side window that led to the fire escape. The Cowboy had returned.  
  
"Hey, fellas!" He called, beaming at the group of boys who were still crowded in a group near the door to the room. A very EXCITED group, at that.  
  
"Cowboy, looks like we got somethin' heah... if dese boys are tellin' da truth." Snoddy said in his soft and husky voice, an arm around Snipeshooter.  
  
"Is dat so? What kinda somethin'?" Jack asked in a detached manner as he placed his black cowboy hat on his bunk and began to unbutton his vest.  
  
"A goil! She's stayin' da night!" Snipes announced proudly. Man oh man, was he going to get a title around here! The older boys would respect him because of his wonderful spying tactics, they would give him cigars, and he would finally be able to...  
  
"Oh yeah?" Jack replied as he shook his hair out of his eyes. He looked down at the younger boy, one side of his mouth pulled up in a look of amusement. This wouldn't be the first time that Snipes had decided to play a prank on him and the other, older newsies. Just the week before, both him and Trickster told Blink that Kloppman wanted him downstairs. As soon as Kid Blink reached the doorway to the bunk room, a bucket from above him dumped fish-smelling water on top of him, causing him to lose his footing, slip, and fall smack down on his face. It turned out that the young boys had taken a trip to a fish market, which was not far away from their selling spot, borrowing some water from a fish tank that had been keeping some fish fresh. It was obvious that Trickster and Snipeshooter made a good team. Too good of a team.  
  
"I'se not kiddin', Jack! She's downstaihs with Kloppman!" Snipes insisted, his voice rising a couple of keys. Jack chuckled and pushed the boy's cabby hat over his eyes.  
  
"Of coise you are, Snipes." Jack said jokingly, turning to his friends. The faces that were not too long ago very excited at the idea of a girl staying the night with them, turned to match that of their leader. They scoffed at Snipes and returned to their bunks laughing.  
  
"Fine, den! You'll see!" Snipes proclaimed, stalking over to his own bunk and sitting down in a humph, crossing his arms across his chest. Jake watched with an amused look, not wanting to contribute to the conversation at hand. He remembered an old story that he had heard long ago, something about a boy crying wolf. That seemed to fit Snipes perfectly.  
  
As the commotion in the room ceased and the poker game resumed, Jake began to wonder what was going on downstairs. He turned to his back, staring at the ceiling, not tired enough to go to sleep, yet not awake enough to try his luck at poker. Some time went by before two pairs of footsteps sounded on the stairs. Heads quickly turned to the doorway and silence filled the room as the door slowly opened revealing Kloppman and the new resident of the boys lodging house.  
  
*****  
  
Emily grudgingly followed Kloppman up the stairs to the bunk room. He had assured her that the boys were nice young men and that she had no reason to be uneasy. Somehow she believed him, but a part of her just wouldn't except the fact that being in a room full of fifteen young men would be a fine time. 'It's gonna be fine, Em. You'se only stayin' for one night...' her mind repeated over and over in her adapted New York tongue. She hoped that her mind was right.  
  
'Heah goes nothin'. Dey bettah behave...' Kloppman thought to himself as he held open the door so that Emily could walk in first.  
  
There wasn't one boy in the bunk room who was doing anything else than stare at the girl who was encased in the shadows of the door way. Her long arms hung limply at her sides and her chin was lifted high in a defiant gesture. She took a deep breath and walked further into the room, letting Kloppman walk in after her. She certainly was a sight. Her long black hair and bangs framed her green eyes perfectly, and as Jake looked on he felt his stomach constrict. He rolled his eyes, turning onto his side so that his back was to the door way.  
  
Emily vaguely noticed Jake was the only one who had actually MOVED since she walked in. An Italian boy's cigar fell out of his mouth and onto his playing cards. He cursed and picked it up, shoving it back in his mouth as he turned his eyes back to the raven haired, green eyed creature. Shaker sat up from his dreaming position in his bottom bunk and glanced at everyone in the room. 'What are dey doin'? Catchin' flies in deir mouths?!' he thought with a chuckle. Then he noticed the girl in the doorway and he too became mesmerized. Even Jack was staring at her as if he had never seen a girl.  
  
Suddenly a commotion came from the back of the room, and a small, curly haired boy rushed over to the large group of boys. "See! I toldja, I toldja dere was a goil! But NO, you bums, you wouldn' believe me! I toldja..." he rambled, pointing at the girl with a triumphant smirk on his face.  
  
"Ah, quit it, Snipes!" Jack called, ruffling the younger boy's hair with laid back laugh as he walked forward. "So... Kloppman, who's dis heah?" He asked as he sauntered over to where Emily stood. Em looked at the boy as if he was an insect.  
  
"I can answer for meself, thank you evah so much." She answered dryly. She faintly heard Kloppman mutter something to this boy, calling him Cowboy. The tall and lean boy's grin faltered for a moment, and then he shrugged at her while leaning against the wall.  
  
"Den tell me, goily. Why're you heah?" He asked, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and digging in the other for a match.  
  
Emily narrowed her eyes at the boy, turning around so that she could face him fully. "Why is it dat you news boys always 'ave to address dose dat you speak to wit' deir gendah? BOY?" She growled at him, crossing her arms over her chest. The worn men's shirt that she wore hung off of her body and fluttered with the motion.  
  
Jack continued to grin at her as he addressed Kloppman. "You sendin' us fiah crackahs instead of newsies now, Kloppman?" He asked in an amused fashion. Kloppman shook his head at the young boy. When would he learn?  
  
"Da name's Emily. And I'se only stayin' one night. I ain't no newsie." Emily said, lifting her chin up at him. Snubbing him. She turned to Kloppman and gave him a small, secretive smile, whispering a small thank you, and turned back to the boy.  
  
"Wheah do I sleep?" She asked, quieter then before. Though her tone had dropped, the tense, unmoving hint to her voice still remained. Jack shrugged, his mouth now neutral, having lost its grin. If she wasn't going to give him the time of day, he wasn't going to break his back to help this girl out. If he got his hands on who ever sent her here...  
  
"You find it out for yourself. Emily." Jack said, pushing away from the wall and stuffing his unlit cigarette back into his pocket. 'Great. I got to put up wit' her, and I ain't got no matches. Great,' he thought to himself. He walked over to where the boys still sat speechless, and sighed. "Come on, are you guys all dead now er somethin'?" He yelled, throwing his hands over his head in exasperation. He then watched as some of the older boys sat down to play cards or talk to their friends while all of the younger boys shuffled off to sleep. Some of them, Jack noticed, still continued to look at Emily curiously. Things were winding down for the night.  
  
"Jack. Come heah..." Kloppman called from his position at the doorway. He nodded to Emily who had been standing there as if she were lost, and then waved a hand at her to move further into the room. Jack groaned and walked back to Kloppman. He made a huge show out of circling around Emily before walking out of the bunk room with the old man.  
  
"Yah, Kloppman?" Jack asked, running a hand through his light brown hair. Kloppman frowned and shook his head, rubbing his old and gnawed hands together as if he were getting ready to do a hard day's work.  
  
"Jack, look heah boy," he began, pacing around outside the door. "She's just a goil. She ain't gunna bite you." Jack began to say something to this, but Kloppman help up a persistent hand to stop him. "She may seem a little rough. But she ain't much different den you'se, Jack. She just needs somewheah to stay. And I'se lettin her." he said stubbornly, turning to face Jack with a heavy frown.  
  
Jack sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He rolled his eyes thinking, 'Here we go with da story. I sweah, Jack! You act like you'se still...'  
  
"I swear, Jack! You act like you'se still ten yeahs old. I remembah da day you came heah," Kloppman began, just as Jack had expected, traveling down memory lane. "And you bettah not forget it, eidder! I took care of you, I cleaned you up aftah every fight..."  
  
"You loved me unconditionally, you put a roof ovah me head... I'se hoid it all, Kloppman! Get ovah with da old times an come back to da present." Jack said, his anger becoming more evident with each sentence he said. Kloppman rubbed his tired eyes with his hands and sighed.  
  
"She's a goil with no wheahs to go, Jack. She's hungry and tired. She needs somewheah to sleep, and in da mornin' she'll be gone." He explained patiently. He watched as Jack rolled his eyes, fidgeting as he always did as he tried to pretend he had heard it millions of times before. Kloppman knew that Jack thought himself to be the voice of reason. He was considered the leader of the group of boys in the lodging house. He was only seventeen years old and still he had organized the powerful strike that had happened only that previous summer. He was intelligent and Kloppman usually sided with him, but this time he would not give up this fight no matter what Jack said.  
  
"Dere's odder places..." Jack protested, his eyebrows wielding together in an exasperated look.  
  
"No. She's stayin heah." Kloppman said in closing.  
  
"I won't have a goil newsie heah, Kloppman. I won't." Jack said in a firm tone, though there was a gnawing feeling that crept into his stomach as he realized that if Kloppman said Jack would spit shine the girl's shoes, he would probably end up doing it.  
  
"I undah stand, Jack. I do." Kloppman replied. It was amazing how determined a boy could be at that age. "But it ain't like she's gunna be one. Unless she decides this later. Who knows, maybe she'll be one of da best." He said, turning away from Jack and heading slowly down the stairs.  
  
Jack watched the old man, who he adored to no extent, and remembered long ago when he had first encountered the life of a newsie. The seven years of being a newsie had been an exciting adventure, yet there was always the distinct feeling that he wanted more. More than he could get from being a dirty street rat who hawked headlines and hung out with boys named Mush and Racetrack. He sighed slightly to himself and sat down on the top step, thinking about what had just happened. Emily.  
  
*****  
  
"Heyas, I'se Mush!" Exclaimed an incredibly loud and way-to-cheerful voice from behind Emily. She jumped in surprise, her eyes growing wide, as she turned to face the voice. Before her stood a grinning... well, a grinning good looking boy. Emily felt herself flush, but managed to scowl at him in her usual way.  
  
"Hi." She replied coldly, staring him down. His grin melted into a disappointed frown and he looked at her, flustered. Emily continued to glare at him, all the while noticing his bushy brown hair, dark complexion, and his even darker eyes. Mush laughed nervously and looked over his shoulder at his best friend, Blink, begging him with his eyes to help him out in his unfortunate position. Blink chuckled to himself and stuck his thumbs in his best pockets, walking quickly over to his buddy's rescue.  
  
"Ello, dere. I'se Blink. You'se already met Mush heah. He's kinda shy 'round da ladies..." Blink said nonchalantly, throwing his arm around Mush's shoulder and tipping his cap to Emily.  
  
"Hey! I'se not shy!" Mush sputtered, shoving Blink away from him. Blink laughed at him and slapped him on the side of the face, sticking his tongue out at him playfully. Mush stole Blink's cap from on top of his head and began hitting him in the face with it. The two laughed like idiots as they began to chase each other around the bunk room.  
  
"Terrific." Emily muttered glumly to herself. She was housing with a bunch of loud, cheerful, playful, and flirtatious apes. Lucky her. She watched with an unamused frown on his face as Blink climbed the ladder to a nearby bunk and fell smack dab on another boy.  
  
"ACK! Oh, sorry, Jake." Blink apologized, laughing slightly as he climbed over the other boy. 'So that's where he went to.' Em thought, smirking to herself. Jake had been hiding from her... figure that. She saw Jake chuckle and roll away from Blink, who was trying unsuccessfully to scramble to the other side of the bunk to break free from his friend. Unbeknownst to the, however, Mush climbed the ladder right after Blink and grabbed onto the back of his shirt. "MUSH!" Blink shouted, "Lemme go, geez!" He smacked Mush's hands away from his shirt, causing Mush to lose his balance on the ladder.  
  
"AAHHHH!" Mush screamed as he fell off of it, dragging Blink after him. The THUD that followed them didn't sound all too pleasant.  
  
The boys in the room laughed uproariously as Blink and Mush lie on the floor, moaning with pain. "Dat was really graceful a you, Mush," snickered an obnoxious boy from around his cigar. Emily couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the boys, who were now wrestling without mercy on the floor. She shook her head and turned away from them to inspect the rows of bunks.  
  
"Hmmn." She said to herself as she surveyed them. She saw a lone bottom bunk which seemed deserted, meaning that it didn't have any clothes or a half naked sleeping newsboy strewn on top of it. On the top bunk was a young man who was writing in a notebook. As she neared him, she saw that he wasn't writing but sketching in it. "Is anyone sleepin' heah?" She asked him, startling him from his drawing. He shook his silky, raven hair out of his eyes and smiled at her.  
  
"Well, me bud, Pie Eater, has dis bunk," he began, looking into the girls green eyes. Only a few minutes before, he had been staring at Emily with an open mouth, his hand poised over his forgotten drawing. And now that she was actually looking at him, Bumlets thought she was even prettier. "But he's out. He went to Brooklyn to see his goilfriend, Buttah. And I don' think he's comin' back any time soon." He finished, cracking his knuckles and smiling warmly at Em. Well, Pie most probably wouldn't be home that night, since Butter and him were together ALL the time, so Bumlets didn't think he was all too wrong with his assumption. 'Hey, it's not like I'se jealous... he's just me best friend, dat's all...' Bumlets thought to himself, dropping his eyes from Em's gaze to look over his sketch of the poker players in the room.  
  
"I'm Em." She offered to the boy.  
  
He looked back up at her, a shocked expression crossing his face. "Bumlets." He then picked up his pencil once again to begin sketching.  
  
Emily nodded and sat down on her new bunk. The sheets were worn, but were much more comforting then an old and muddy newspaper on a park bench. She heard Bumlets yawn and shift around on the bunk above, and she mentally smiled. He was nice enough. At least he didn't fall all over her like the other ones. She stifled her own yawn and lied down on the bunk, thinking to herself.  
  
"Hey, Dutch. Whaddya think of her?" Specs asked his good friend, nodding his head toward Emily. He leaned in towards his poker playing buddy to glance at his cards.  
  
"I dunno... hey! Get offa me back!" Dutchy replied, pushing his friend away with a chuckle. That's one thing he always hated; people breathing on his neck. Especially when it was Specs, who's breath wasn't always up to par.  
  
"I think you'se all crazy. She ain't all dat cute. I'se seen bettah." Race said with a smirk, looking down at his own cards. 'Man, I can't lose with dis hand!' the forever gambler's mind said as he smirked down at his hand.  
  
"Yeah, Race. And weren't you da one who's cigah fell outta his mouth?" Questioned an even cockier voice from the other side of the poker game. Skittery grinned at Race and added another penny to the small pot of money.  
  
"Dat was an honest mistake. Besides, you were busy catchin' flies in your own mouth!" Race retorted, raising an eyebrow at the older and taller boy, pretending that he could take him on. Skittery shook his head and frowned at Race in disappointment. 'Why doesn' he evah admit it when he likes a goil?' Skittery asked himself, glowering over his own cards. 'Lousy, stinkin' hand...'  
  
"Dere ain't no flies, Race! Not at dis time a yeah!" Mush said cluelessly, fiddling with his suspenders as he walked away from his wrestling victory with Blink.  
  
"Ah, shaddup!" The other boys chorused, throwing various objects in the clueless boy's direction. Mush batted them away and then turned away to see where the new object of his affection had escaped too. He saw her laying down on her bunk, and smiling wistfully, he started to walk over to where she was. Blink joined him, taking at once note of his friend's dreamy eyed look. 'Heah he goes again...' Blink thought to himself. Mush was about to speak to her (or try at least), when Jack walked back into the room.  
  
He looked calmer then before, but still extremely unhappy about what was on his mind. Emily turned to Jack and looked at him in almost the exact way. "What's da verdict?" She asked icily, crossing her arms over her chest in her seated position. She heard some questioning murmurs around her and rolled her eyes. "What's da DECISION?" She rephrased impatiently.  
  
"One night." Jack answered, walking over to his bunk near the back of the room. Emily was relieved but she would have never admitted it. She nodded to herself and turned around to thank him in the only way she knew how. She caught his eyes as he was climbing the ladder to his top bunk, and nodded to him. He nodded back curtly, reaching his bunk and sitting down to untie his shoelaces. "Alright fellas, time for bed. We'se got papes to sell!" Jack yelled to everyone.  
  
"Aw, man, Jack! It's just gettin good..." Skittery complained, throwing his cards down on the table in defeat.  
  
"HA! I knew you'se was bluffin, you bum!" Race called out, chewing on his cigar with contempt. "See now, you can't fool da mastah!" He said smugly as he gathered up the cards from the former players. Skittery just rolled his eyes at his friend and headed to his bunk near Emily's. He smiled shyly over at her and climbed up to his own bunk.  
  
Emily sighed deeply, lying down on her bunk and looked around her. Many of the newsies stifled yawns as they climbed into their bunks, grumbling goodnights and fluffing their small and tattered pillows in order to get comfortable.  
  
"G'night fellas. Carryin' da bannah!" Blink yelled as he flipped the lights off. He then yawned loudly and staggered to his own bottom bunk. Em waited until the room had quieted down before she removed her boys T- shirt, revealing a boys undershirt. Wrapped around her middle was a small satchel that had been hidden by the loose shirt. She untied the band and placed it carefully under the mattress for safe keeping. Inside were the only belongings she had left, the only ones that hadn't been stolen from her on the streets. Then she slipped off her too large shoes and snuggled down under the covers of her new bunk. With another heavy sigh, she fell into a deep sleep. Happy, although unwilling to admit the small fact that she felt better than he had in months.  
  
*****  
  
Jake watched from atop his bunk as Emily placed her small bag under the mattress. 'Good ideah. She mustah thought long and hard bout dat one...' he thought to himself, a light smile playing on his lips. He then fell asleep as well. Only, his thoughts were centered around whether Emily would be there when he woke up.  
  
*****  
  
"Ohh! You, yes YOU me deeeah! I'se sooo happy, yes happy, me deeeah!"  
  
The incredibly loud singing rang through the almost deserted streets. People in the nearby buildings rolled around fitfully in their beds, then rose to their feet to shout at the obviously drunk boy, leaning out of their windows. Despite their guesses, though, Pie Eater wasn't drunk. He was in love, which was sort of like being drunk, though without the unfortunate hang over in the morning. "Sweet like caaandy to my soooul... Oh, my lovey dovey baby!" He sang, twirling around a pole in the manner he saw a lady do when he was a wee boy. One thought was on his mind: Butter. Her smile. Her face. Her lips...  
  
"Shuddap, you rotten, good for nothin' street rat! You'se lucky you're not at da REFUGE!" Screamed a tired man from out his window. "Damn kids..." he muttered before slamming his window shut. Pie decided to maybe quiet it down a bit, so he began to hum to himself instead. He continued walking (dancing, prancing, it was all the same) towards the lodging house. He might have stayed the night in Brooklyn, but he thought that the night couldn't have gotten any better, even if he had proposed to his girl  
  
He noticed with surprise that the lodging house was dark and quiet. He had expected the boys to be running a muck throughout the building, even at this time of night. It must have been later then he hoped it had been. "Ah well!" He said to himself in a happy-go-lucky way. "Time's no essence when you is in LOVE!" He said crooned dreamily, grinning from ear to ear. He began to waltz with himself over to the side of the building, just as him and Butter had down earlier that night. He hummed softly again as he climbed the fire escape expertly, skipping three or four steps at a time.  
  
When he reached the window to the bunk room, he listened carefully through the small crack at the bottom of the sill. He could hear Skittery talking to himself in his sleep, and Specs' horrid snoring which took at least six months to get used to. He grinned even more (if it was possible) and gingerly opened up the window. Brushing back his thick, brown hair with his hands, he bent his tall and built figure in order to climb through into the room. He stepped carefully onto the floor, trying not to disturb his friends. He almost laughed out loud when he saw through the dim light as Snitch kicked his brother, Itey, in the face with one of his bare feet. Luckily for Snitch, his younger brother was an incredibly hard sleeper. Moving out of the eerie light of the moon, which illuminated the far half of the bunk room, and into the pitch darkness, Pie made his way carefully over to his bunk. He stifled a yawn and slipped his shoes off while taking off his vest and his shirt. He then pushed his suspenders off of his shoulders, and kicked his pants off, not caring where they landed. 'G'night Buttah...' he thought to himself before landing tiredly on his bunk, face first.  
  
*****  
  
It was hard to sleep through the blood curling scream that rang through the building. And what made it even worse was the incredibly loud THUD which followed it. Some of the light sleepers shot out of their beds, hitting their heads on the bunk above them, or falling out of the bunk all together. Other boys shoved their pillows over their heads and resulted in screaming at whatever had woke them up.  
  
"YOUCH! OW... ow... damn!"  
  
"Doncha think it's kinda oyly ta sell papes, Kloppman?"  
  
"I'setryin'tasleepshheah..."  
  
"Some body toin on da lights!"  
  
"What in da!?"  
  
"WHAT lights!?"  
  
The lights suddenly DID turn on, revealing a disheveled Kloppman in the doorway. "What in da name a... PIE!? What's goin on heah!?" He yelled, his eyes still refusing to open all the way and his ankle throbbing from where he had banged it into the doorway.  
  
The boys looked curiously at the scene that lay before them. Pie Eater, who they had assumed was not coming back that night, was lying on his back on the floor, his eyes wide with surprise and fright. Their new boarder, Emily, stood over him, her fists curled tightly and her eyes a menacing glare.  
  
"DERE'S A GOIL IN ME BED!" Pie screamed in a high shriek, as if all of his friends were either blind or insane. "DID I MISS SOMETHIN'!?" The last comment was more of a wail, as he looked around at everyone. Jake and a few others laughed softly to themselves. It was hard not to! Seeing Emily ready to murder the very confused Pie Eater who was out of the loop was a very amusing sight indeed.  
  
"Um. Pie, I kinda told her she could 'ave your bed. I thought you was stayin' ovah at Brooklyn..." Bumlets explained as he sat on the top bunk, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish manner.  
  
"GREAT!" Pie yelled, rising to his feet and throwing his hands up in resignation. "I leave for da night, I come back, and I get da cheese scared outta me cause dere's a DAMN goil in me BED!" He had had such a good day. And now this. Not to mention that his back wasn't feeling all too well because it was where he had landed on the floor.  
  
"I'se. Emily. You...." She started, stepping towards him with a menacing glint in her eye. It was only then that Pie actually noticed the girl who had claimed his bed. Her wild black hair lay in soft waves around her pale face. Her cold and angry, green eyes were lovely... but not at that moment, while she looked like she was ready to soak him bad.  
  
"Now, Emily. Dis is all a mistake." Kloppman said from where he was leaning against the door way, half asleep. "You 'ave Pie's bed tonight, since you'se only stayin one night, and Pie'll sleep somwheah else. Share a bunk for all I care... I'se goin' ta bed..." he mumbled while turning off the lights and heading back to his much wanted bed.  
  
"Fine. Just fine." Pie muttered to himself. He turned to Emily and smiled uneasily at the girl who was wearing only a boys undershirt and a thin skirt which didn't do it's job of covering her figure. Emily didn't look fully awake, either. "G'night, Emily." He grumbled, looking around at the boys, who were now drifting back to sleep. He groaned and turned back to Bumlets who was snuggling up to his pillow. " I'se sleepin' witcha, Bummah." Pie said, climbing the steps to the top bunk.  
  
"Oh, dat's not nice to invite yourself without bein' properly asked!" Race called over to them, snickering all of the while. He was shut up by a few furious remarks and a few objects that somehow found themselves being chucked at his head. After a few more jeering remarks, the lodging house yet again fell into silence.  
  
After a day like this, it was a wonder how anyone could fall back asleep. However, all of the boys, and Emily, found themselves comfortably back in their own dream worlds.  
  
  
  
end, part one 


End file.
